


Dance Until the Music Stops

by Fenix21



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dancing, Fingering, Frottage, M/M, One-Shot, PWP, just porn-nothing else to see here folks, orgasm in public, pretty boys being sweet and naughty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2015-11-12
Packaged: 2018-05-01 06:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5195171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fenix21/pseuds/Fenix21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Dean Winchester had learned early that there were no perfect moments in life, but there were a few that came damn close.<br/>This was one of them; with Sammy hiked up high on his thigh and grinding into him to the beat of the music.</em>
</p>
<p>Dean and Sam dancing in a crowded bar, and well...things just happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Until the Music Stops

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is what happens when I have a day off, and I'm in desperate need of porn, but my creativity and writing skill and inspiration and even my muse have gone into short term, self-imposed exile. I don't promise this is even very good, but there you go...

Dean Winchester had learned early that there were no perfect moments in life, but there were a few that came damn close.

This was one of them; with Sammy hiked up high on his thigh and grinding into him to the beat of the music; his arms slung around Dean's neck and his head ducked down so he could drag his lips across Dean's jugular and suck softly at the tender place right beneath his jaw. Dean had one hand up the back of Sam's shirt, skimming restlessly up and down his spine, and the other held a mostly empty beer bottle suspended out in space and mostly forgotten as Sam shifted and inched in closer to slot his own thigh between Dean's and give back like for like pressure.

'Shit, Sam,' Dean groaned, biting down a little into Sam's shoulder because the opposing heat and pressure lodged between his legs coupled with the scalding line of Sam's cock nestled tight into his groin was making him edgy in the very best kind of way.

'Yeah?' Sam breathed out, and Dean could hear the innocent smirk in his voice.

'Gonna need a room, you keep that up,' Dean admonished, twisting his hips to get closer, to pull Sam just a little higher up his leg. 

'Not sure we'd make it,' Sam said, and tightened his arms around Dean's neck, dipped his fingers down the collar of his shirt, and dragged blunt nails lightly over bare, sensitive skin.

Dean growled in response and worried a little at  Sam's shoulder like a lion getting his teeth set to tear into a feast of flesh.

'Might be right,' he mumbled around a mouthful of hoodie and dropped his bottle on an obliging tray that came within easy reach as a waitress expertly navigated the crush of dancers all around them. With both hands free, he sunk one down the back of Sam's jeans, dipping his fingers into the already sweat-slick cleft of his ass and making his little brother gasp against his throat and arch into him. The other he planted between Sam's shoulder blades, pulling him close and hard and pinning him so he squirmed a little against Dean's strong grip and exploring fingers.

Sam's arms tightened around Dean's neck even more, and he lifted his head enough to pant in his brother's ear, just one word,

'Yes.'

Dean had done a lot of rash and crazy things in his life—some that might even fall under the category of 'stupid.' Bringing Sam here to this bar hadn't been especially smart for starters. John may have presented Dean with his very own fake ID when he was just seventeen and a half, but he was oddly much more protective of Sam and would like as not have taken Dean out in the parking lot for a good thrashing over sneaking his little brother in here if he ever found out.

So, finger-fucking said little brother down the back of his jeans in the middle of a crush of sweaty, undulating bodies? Yeah, that would fall over in the 'stupid' category. But Dean never made any claims to being a genius, that was Sammy's territory, after all. So, he flexed his fingers under Sam's sharp scapula bones where they strained outward, drawing him closer still, and twisted his other hand down deeper until the pads of his fingers found the tense heat of that tightly furled ring of muscle and rubbed until Sam was nigh onto strangling Dean in his grip and choking on his own short, sharp breaths in between keening low and desperate in his throat and growling all needy and demanding deep in his chest.

Dean chuckled, harsh and rough, into the hollow of his brother's  throat where he had turned to lick and lap at the trickle of sweat running down. Sam shivered in response and clung tighter. Dean crooked his middle finger, pressed it up and in, felt Sam open around him at the same time his whole body jerked like a line under a thousand volt load, and his teeth found Dean's earlobe and bit down—probably harder than he intended, but the sudden, shocky, pain of it made a fresh sheen of wanton sweat break out across Dean's shoulders, and he moaned against Sam's skin.

'Fuck! Dean, if you. I can't. I'm gonna—' Sam swore and twitched and squirmed in a contradictory dance of trying to escape his brother's torturing finger while at the same time trying to draw him deeper. He rocked his hips hard into Dean's groin, shifting them back to give him better access which Dean immediately took advantage of, pushing deeper and then drawing back and doing it again while Sam shuddered and jolted against him, riding his thigh in hard, powerful rolls of his hips.

Dean didn't spare a thought for the crowd around them. Hunter trained, with instincts that could escalate all the way to a clean, quick kill when called upon, he was always conscious of his surroundings, no matter how caught up in the moment he might be. No one around them was of any concern and they were no concern to anyone else. All the dark corners of this pseudo club were occupied with young couples twined and tangled together, kissing and groping to the heady rhythm of the music. The air was thick and vibrating with anticipation and urgency, and smelled of beer and sweat and sex.

Dean shifted his stance, widened it, pulled Sam's trembling weight more fully against him. He scraped his teeth along the line of Sam's throat up to his ear, nibbled there at the sensitive skin, and then huffed out on a breath,

  'Want to, Sammy?' He shifted a hand down to the curve of Sam's lower back, thumb to his spine, steadying his rhythm , guiding him in his juttering, hesitant thrusts, urging him on. 'Can you, babe? Here? For me?'

Sam whimpered and ground himself down on Dean's hand, taking him as deep as the restrictive denim of his jeans would allow, as deep as Dean's finger could reach.

'Y-yes,' he stuttered out on a shocked and gasping breath before he dropped his face fully into the curve of Dean's neck and shoulder and breathed there, hot and damp and shallow and desperate.

Dean turned his hand, worked his ring finger down beside his middle and pushed up and forward with his knuckles. Sam gave a choked off little yelp, fingers curling hard into the muscle across Dean's shoulders.

'Again,' he begged, breathless, in Dean's ear. 'Jesus. Again…'

Dean repeated the move, added a twist of his wrist, felt Sam arch into him and shudder fiercely. He pressed in tight to the scorching heat of Sam's cock that twitched and throbbed in the hollow of his hip, and let his little brother rub himself off on the friction between them.

The music intensified around them, some throaty, husky, female voice rising high and powerful over the general noise of the crowd, buoyed up by a heavy bass beat and the electric scream of guitars with their amps on high. Dean pumped his fingers, thrusting hard and slow at first, picking up his pace as Sam answered his every move with a gasped plea for more. The music peaked, drums crashing and rolling over the crowd in a palpable wave of sound, and Sam tossed his head back, rose up high against Dean, clinging like he was about to fall off the edge of the world. Dean gave one last, fierce thrust and tipped his face up to watch his little brother come apart in pieces on a silent scream while he clawed and clutched at Dean's shoulders and clenched around his fingers to the sweet music of his own orgasm.

Dean held him up through his aftershocks, nursing him on tiny little thrusts of his fingers and gentle suckling at the hollow of his throat, until Sam collapsed, weak and shaking, arms slung tight around Dean's neck again, and his face buried against his shoulder.

'Holy shit, Dean…' Sam murmured, blissed-out and sex-rough.

'Mmmmm,' Dean replied, nuzzling deep into Sam's hair and breathing in the salt-sweet tang of him all fucked out and high on his own endorphins. He extricated his hand slowly from the back of Sam's jeans and pulled his hips in snug and held his weight as the music slowed and Sammy sagged against him. He felt a tentative, questioning roll of Sam's hips and then,

'Dean?' he asked warily at the absence of his brother's hard arousal.

Dean shook his head, laid a line of warm kisses behind the curve of Sam's ear, and brought his little brother's hand down between them where he could feel the recovering pound of Dean's heart in his chest.

'Nothin hotter,' he whispered in way of explanation, 'than my baby brother coming for me on a crowded dance floor on nothin' but my finger.'

Dean felt the heat of Sam's blush against his throat and smiled.

'Christ, Dean, I—'

Dean leaned back a little, grasped a hank of sweat-damp hair and tugged until Sam looked up, eyes alive now with irritation and embarrassment. 

'Beautiful,' Dean said firmly. 'And so hot. But always beautiful.' He planted a warm, closed mouth kiss on Sam's lips, pressing just hard enough to make his point. 'Anytime. Anywhere.'

Sam's eyes glinted bright for a moment before he ducked his head down again and wrapped himself around his older brother, all long limbs and baby-monkey-tight. He pressed his nose in under the collar of Dean's shirt, and his next words were barely audible,

'Only because you make me that way.'

'Ah, Sammy…'

And Dean could do nothing else but pull his brother closer and kiss him again until the music finally stopped. 


End file.
